


The Boymeat Center

by meatboys (weirdboys)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Bondage, Boymeat, Butchering, Cannibalism, Chair Bondage, Character Death, Chastity Device, Child Death, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Consensual Snuff, Consensual Violence, Cooking, Crushing, Dolcett - Freeform, Electricity, Electrocution, Electrostimulation, Erotic Electrostimulation, Execution, Extremely Underage, Flayed Alive, Food is People, Gore, Hard vore, Heavy BDSM, Human skinning, Impalement, M/M, Masochism, Other, Pain, Skinning, Snuff, Snuff Kink, child prey, child vore, consensual guro, death by crushing, death kink, electric chair, mass execution, meat grinder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-03-09 20:04:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18924097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdboys/pseuds/meatboys
Summary: READ THE TAGS. You probably won't like this story. It features a lot of extreme erotic violence and death in a clearly fictional setting that most people will find disturbing. It is EXTREMELY NASTY. Don't say you weren't warned.An open ended series about boys being consensually executed in different ways, set in a dystopian world where young boys welcome death and seek it out anywhere they can find it.





	1. Danny Watson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contains crushing.

The advertising campaign was so effective, they hadn't selected any boys in months. The Boymeat Centers across the land were overrun with youngsters aching to get snuffed, so much that they had to schedule appointments and hire new staff.

12 year old Danny Watson had waited so long for this day. He saw the transport van pull up in front of his house, and flying out of his clothes, he launched himself straight into the shipping crate by the front door, yelling for his dad to come and strap him in.

The arrangement of straps in the crate was designed to pull the boy into a fetal position as painfully as possible, wrapped around a hard metal frame. That was good for Danny, because in this world, little boys were built for pain.

At school, he would routinely get into fights, before a teacher pulled him aside and gently informed him that if he wanted to get the shit kicked out of him, all he had to do was ask.

So once every couple of days, the designated school bully would tenderly tie him up, roll him over and slam a foot into his ribs, neck, and stomach. Often he would call his friends over and have them rain thundering blows into his belly and his abdomen, leaving him bruised and sore all over by the end of recess, and later on when his balls started working, a white load blown into his pants.

Then it was a trip to the school nurse, a few minutes in the regenerator and he'd be back in time for class.

Danny groaned in pain as his father grabbed his arms and roughly twisted them behind his back. His cock began to lengthen into an erection, but the included chastity device was quickly wrapped around him, and his hardening cock mashed into the wall of the too-small metal pocket. An open buttplug, pre-lubed, was pushed into his ass with a slurp.

Dad gave Danny one last tender tongue-kiss, and with one hand on the back of his head, bent his son down, locking the torso strap into place with a click, pushing a metal bar hard into his stomach and ribs. Danny was now totally folded over, facing the bottom of the crate, and the last strap, which included a ball gag, was strung around his face. He opened his mouth, accepting the small red ball that would silence him for the next few hours.

His father wheeled him outside to the waiting van. The driver, dressed in plain white clothes and a low-brimmed cap, took a scanner out of his pocket and pointed it at the barcode on the box. After the beep, the cover slid over and he was loaded into the van.

Muffled grunts and moans from the boys around Danny was all he could hear for the next hour as he was bumped and shuffled around. Yet he stayed awake, his boyish erection straining against the chastity device, the throbbing aches and pains from being strapped down spiking pleasure to his cock. The van stopped and started, picking up more and more boys destined for the Boymeat Center.

The temperature grew cold as the day ended, and then he could feel a different kind of movement. His crate shook as if it was being carried, then a smooth hum gently vibrated throughout as it was placed on some sort of conveyor belt.

The top of the crate was pulled off and a hand reached down and touched his ass, before snaking further and pinching his balls. The telltale sounds of a factory were like music to his ears. Danny had arrived!

The mechanism he was tied into was lifted out of the box, and he caught a glimpse of the factory floor. Ten, twenty conveyor belts, with attendants opening boxes and examining the boys inside, before the robot arms took over, extracting the boys from their crates and placing them on different rails leading to different places.

Danny was headed to Standard Processing. In quick succession he was blasted with soapy water, given a rough and speedy enema, a burning-hot blow dry, and then pushed into another machine which wound back the straps, forcing him into a sitting position.

His eyes flicked from left to right. A row of boys stretched far off into the distance on each side.

There was a sudden flash, not bright enough to blind, but enough to attract attention. A large video-wall sparked into life, and speakers blared out the orientation video. A middle-aged man, dressed all in white, stepped into frame.

"Welcome to the Boymeat Center. You are here because it is your time to do your part for the people."

Danny sucked an excited breath into his lungs and held it there.

"Every boy who enters the Center is destined to become one of many things that will benefit humanity. You may feed them."

The screen flipped to the scene of a family enjoying a boy roast. The boymeat had many delicious portions carved out of him, his eyes rolled back and his cock permanently hard, his last orgasm fixed to his face and body.

"You may fertilize our crops and plants."

A long line of boys, one by one, stepping into a life-size woodchipper. Each boy annihilated in seconds, and every one shooting a rope of cum as they were turned to mincemeat. The video cut to a huge barrel slowly filling with the minced remains.

"You may power our towns and cities with renewable energy."

Ten boys, writhing over each other, fucking and kissing in the scoop of a digger as they were thrown into a furnace.

"Whatever your choice today, we thank you for doing your part for mankind. In just a moment, you will be making your way to one of our advisors who will assist you to your final moments. We wish you all the best in your demise."

Danny's cock throbbed against his bindings, and his heart jumped into his mouth as he dropped into a deep, dark hole.

* * *

"Let's get you out of this, kid," Jim said to the boy delivered to his office. "What's your name?"

"D-Danny," the boy shivered, adjusting to the change in temperature. Jim's warm hand touched his shoulder and began to undo the straps that held him onto the frame. He was free in no time, and rubbed his arms and legs where the bindings were. His cock throbbed in the cool air.

To the right of them was an examination table, which Jim invited Danny to lie down on. The adult sat at the computer on the opposite side of the small room and tapped away for a moment.

"So, it says here you're going to die by crushing."

"Uh huh! I love getting beat up and stepped on, and getting crushed is like, all I ever wanted!"

"Well Danny, we've got something very special for you. Come with me."

Danny jumped down from the table. Jim grabbed a keycard, and the pair of them walked out of the office. Down a long hallway with hundreds of similar looking doors, up and down and around, until they reached a small locked door.

Jim sank a hand into his pocket and felt around for a moment, before pulling out a small key and unlocking the door. He waved the boy through.

They stepped out onto a long walkway in a vast room. Below them were hundreds of transparent cubes, each a room containing a boy getting snuffed. At the middle of the walkway were some steps leading to nowhere, and a small reader, on which Jim tapped the keycard.

From the bright depths, a single cube rose. An empty room, containing...

"You ever see one of these on the freeway, Danny? An asphalt roller."

Danny nodded, grinning wildly.

The cube locked onto the platform, and the doors within them opened.

"After you," Jim said, and Danny leapt into the room.

The big, yellow machine loomed in the corner. Half-tractor, half giant concrete wheel, usually for flattening asphalt on highways, but today, flattening Danny. Crushing him to death.

"So, let's talk about how this will go for you. I'm gonna tie you down to the floor here, go into that," Jim pointed at the roller, "and start crushing you from the feet up. Then we're gonna spin you around and pop your head, and squash the rest of you after you're dead. This is all being recorded, of course, and your dad will be sent the video when it's up on the Center's website."

A minute later, Danny had ropes around his wrists to hold his hands above his head, his legs were tied together, and his cock strained in the warm air.

The deafening roar of the road roller's engines echoed throughout the room, and the machine towered over the small boy. Then it slowed. Danny had been at least half-hard he got into the crate, but the sight of the giant industrial machine coming to destroy him jolted his cock to full hardness.

Danny pointed his toes forward, allowing the roller to slide over them, easing on more and more pressure, and then it began to work its way up his legs.

With a crack and a squish, the legs collapsed into a gory pancake. Danny's cock jumped. The roller kept going, relentlessly working its way up the boy's legs, crushing more and more.

The closer it got to his crotch, the more Danny's cock bounced up and down in place.

And finally, the roller found his balls, slowly crushing them flat. Danny shot rope after rope of cum all over his chest in his last orgasm.

The roller reached his still-erect cock, mid-orgasm, and in a single movement, jumped up and crushed his cock and pelvis.

Danny finally let out the breath he'd been holding. In the face of unbelievable pain, he screamed in orgasmic pleasure.

The splinters of his pelvis crunched around in his body, spiking his lower internal organs, popping his stomach, which quickly deflated. Danny's vision swimmed, having already lost a lot of blood.

From the cabin of the asphalt roller, Jim noticed what was going on, and sped up a little.

The concrete roller pulverized Danny's lower back, crushing it into dust and gore, and stopped just before his ribcage. The vehicle quickly reversed, and a turntable cut into the floor spun the boy around.

The top of Danny's head was now facing the blood-smeared asphalt roller. A voice clicked on the PA.

"Daniel Watson. The fertilizer you give us will keep a hundred crops healthy. Thank you for doing your part for humanity."

Danny grinned a wide red smile, blood bubbling at his mouth.

The machine roared forward, meeting the back of his head, and crushed it into multicolored paste. It flattened the rest of his dead body with a long series of pops and crunches, and thundered to a halt.


	2. Jack Spencer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contains cooking vore and impalement.

"We're all ready for you, Jack."

Jack stepped into the kitchen. A huge, flaming fire pit sat in the center of the room, flanked by worktops and three busy kitchen staff.

The chef approached the 12 year old boy, and looked at him up and down. He squatted in front of him, grabbing a leg, lightly pinching the skin on his thigh, groping his firm young ass, then moved his hands up his body before patting him on the head.

"You'll make a fantastic boy roast, Mr Spencer. We've got a big hungry family of 10 kids and three adults, and you're going to be their dinner."

A smile spread across Jack's face. He'd waited so long for this day.

When self-registration opened at the Boymeat Center, Jack's parents begged him not to go. But Jack could think of nothing but becoming meat, and had done since he was 8, playing barbecue with his friends in the woods. In the middle of the night, he secretly submitted his details to the Center's self-registration website, and his parents were none the wiser until they found the note he left after they went out one evening.

He was nervous, going through Standard Processing, that it might not happen. Maybe his parents got him a last minute reprieve.

There was no way he wasn't going to end up on someone's plate that day, though. Once he entered the consultation room, he was legally dead - raw materials ready to be processed, owned entirely by the state.

The chef in his execution room motioned him onto the worktop. A set of steps lead to the marble work surface, where Jack went onto all fours, pointing his gorgeous ass into the air.

"So we're going to cook you over an open fire, for that slow cooked taste. First we've gotta cover you in marinade. This might tickle."

It did. Jack wriggled and laughed as the wet brushes covered his skin in red sauce. His cock pulsed when the brushes swept over it.

"Now, for the spit. We've heated it up so you get a nice, warm feeling when it's inside you. But before we do that, there's something I need to tell you."

"W-what's that?" Jack panted.

"Jack Spencer? Thank you for your contribution to humanity."

The scorching hot tip brushed against Jack's asshole, and he flinched. The chef put his hands on Jack's shoulders and looked into his eyes.

"Take a deep breath."

Jack breathed in, and a wonderful burning sensation grew at his rear. A kitchen assistant, wearing a pair of thick gloves, pushed the metal skewer into his ass until it reached the wall of the rectum.

The chef glanced up at his assistant and down at Jack.

"Breathe steady. We don't want to kill you before you've started cooking."

With a tearing sensation, the spit pushed through the wall into Jack's abdomen, and began to travel up towards his chest. Warmth spread from the heated metal pole, and his heart raced. He moaned involuntarily. He was so full, and the spike had a long way to go.

His asshole quivered and clenched over the warm metal insertion, pushing in more and more. The slightly rough metal scraped over his prostate, and he came onto the tray. The first of many.

"I'm going to hold your head for a moment. The spit will come out of your throat and mouth, and you won't be able to speak anymore. Is there anything else you need?"

Jack thought about it for a moment. "No. This is perfect. I can't wait to be meat!"

Without another word, the chef held Jack's head in place. The boy could feel something coming up his neck. His throat bulged and he began to cough, but it was interrupted by the pointy head of the spike bursting out of his throat. He opened his mouth, and the blood-slicked metal pole slid over his tongue and out into the warm air.

Now he'd been fully impaled with the spit, the chef stepped to one side and allowed his two assistants to take over. Wordlessly, they held the boy in place and pushed the spit through, further and further, until he was in the center of the pole. The boy grunted, feeling the drag, flexing his asshole around the pole, and tasting the warm metal scraping over his tongue.

They tied his arms behind his back, and his feet and legs to the pole, leaving him flat as the spike inside him. They eased an apple onto one end, and the boy opened his mouth, accepting the fruit onto his jaws.

Then, after a quick touch-up on the marinade, they hauled him off the counter and took him towards the open fire.

Jack's eyes widened. His cock was harder than it had ever been. He'd been jumping from orgasm to orgasm for the past half hour as he was prepared for cooking, and now it was finally happening. He was going to be meat.

The flames licked his body, and he blew another load into the fire. It popped and hissed, evaporating the fluids that shot from the 12 year old's cock.

His tummy was turning red. A kitchen assistant rotated the spit and locked it in place, toasting his back.

Jack was turned over and over for many hours, carefully and evenly cooking all over. His skin turned from a pale bronze to a nutty brown, steam rose from his nose and mouth whenever he exhaled, and his cock jumped over and over, occasionally shooting loads into the fire or over his belly. Being cooked felt amazing, like nothing else he'd ever felt.

The method of cooking meant the boy stayed alive during the whole process, turning from raw to edible. His vision swimmed as his eyeballs cooked, his thoughts slowed, and his breath shallowed.

He couldn't feel it at all when the chef came over and stabbed him in the butt with a thermometer. He knelt, facing the boy roast, and told him:

"You are now perfectly cooked."

Jack's perfectly seared, chapped lips weakly stretched into a smile around the heat-shrunken apple. Meat juices flowed from his skin as the cooked muscles moved around.

Several gray blobs behind the chef slowly came into focus. A line of young boys of varying ages, and what appeared to be three beaming fathers.

"Look at that! He's smiling! I hear they taste the best when they've enjoyed a good slow roast," said one.

There was movement around Jack, and he was hoisted into the air. He left the beautiful warmth of the roasting pit, held in place by the two kitchen assistants, trailing behind the chef. Kids bounced around the procession, pointing at the different parts of the cooked boy they wanted to eat.

"Yes," the chef responded. "Jack has been cooking over our fire pit for 9 and a half hours. We have him just right, and he's enjoyed it the whole time."

In the back room, a long table was laid out neatly. The entire family pulled out the chairs and sat down, and a sizzling Jack was put into place, pole held securely in the brackets, the crowning centerpiece of the table.

From one side, the chef was sharpening his carving knife, arms a flurry of motion, and the noise of steel against steel rang out. Jack shuddered in anticipation. The mouths of the family of boys watered.

The sharp blade sliced into the meatboy's ass, and his cock bounced over and over. He'd long since cum dry from the cooking. A quiet whine escaped his heat-seared lips.

The slice of boymeat carved from his ass was spiked with a serving fork and lifted away, put onto a plate and placed in front of one of the twelve hungry boys. Once every serving of boy ham had been cut away and plated, there was nothing left of Jack's tight ass, the bone and connecting tissue exposed to the world, with the exception of the ring of muscle forming Jack's asshole, still flexing around the spit.

One of the three dads spoke up, and pointed the chef to a 9 year old boy. "It's Charlie's turn to have the cockmeat."

So the chef slipped the knife under Jack's balls, and in one quick motion, denuded his crotch, lifting the cock and balls away. A thin, clear string of fluid stretched away between the genitals and the crotch as it gained distance from the boy to the plate, before disappearing altogether.

That didn't stop him from feeling the orgasmic pleasure of being carved up and served to the family surrounding him, and the chef was far from done. He sliced thin strips off Jack's feet, chopped his toes off and put one on each child's plate, and crashing sexual pleasure rolled through the meatboy. He could barely move, but shivers of orgasm still made him rock from side to side.

The chef took sections out of Jack's thighs and put them onto every plate. Potatoes and sauce were ladled on, and the chef took a step back.

"Bon appetit."

With no further prompting, the family took their first bites of Jack, the boy roast.

"Mmmmm!" one boy moaned. Delicious delicate flavor melted in their mouths. The last thing the cooked boy saw before his vision turned to dark mist and his thoughts slowed to a stop was the family enjoying every bite of his boymeat.

His heart sang, for this was all he wanted in life.

He'd found the ultimate pleasure.

* * *

Half an hour later, with full stomachs and satisfied groans, the family had completed their meal. The cooling remains of Jack had been lifted off the table and butchered for the fathers to take home, feeding their kids for weeks. No part of him went to waste, from pate to sausage to hot wings, every morsel of him became food for the family.

The next day, the chef did it all over again. 10 year old Robert had volunteered to become a boy roast for his doting parents, though this time he was cooking in a much more traditional oven.

In an unusual occurrence for the Boymeat Center, his parents were world-renowned experts in boy cooking. They wouldn't just be watching, as was sometimes requested.

They'd be joining in.

That day was full of joyful squeals and orgasmic moans as Robert and his two fathers prepared him thoroughly, inside and out.

Just another day in the Food Division at the Boymeat Center.


	3. Dwayne Lewis Jr.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contains execution by electric chair.

His dad had slipped in something extra when he helped him into the crate. While you weren't supposed to have anything but what the Boymeat Center provided inside you, neither of them thought they would mind too much, considering the way that 9 year old Dwayne Lewis Jr. had chosen to die.

He dialled the remote control of the metal e-stim embedded in his ass up and down as he worked through Standard Processing. A tiny shock was magnified during the enema, causing his guts to cramp and his cock to bounce. As the instruction video played, he turned it all the way up at the sight of all the boys on camera walking to their demise.

Once he got to the consultation room, he admitted what he'd done to Will, his assigned helper, who burst out laughing in response.

"Of course you couldn't wait! The electric chair is something only very special boys choose. We usually just have this room for executing criminals. We never normally get to use the special toys."

"Sp-special toys?" Dwayne gasped, his eyes widening in delight.

"Clamps for your nipples, sounds and metal rings for your cock, a metal buttplug, exposed wires that go anywhere you want. Just tell me now, and we'll get it set up in your room."

Dwayne was bouncing with excitement. "All of them! And I want wires on my feet!"

Will smiled. "Consider it done."

"Yesssss!"

"Now, let's talk about how the chair works, okay?"

Will beckoned the boy over to his computer.

"We're going to strap you into the chair, so all the electricity goes into you. We'll start slow, just a little bit of juice so you can feel it in everything, then we'll turn it up all the way so it kills you."

The naked boy's cock jumped. Will looked at it for a moment and continued.

"We usually shave the head of anyone going out in the chair, so their hair doesn't catch fire. And you're young, so you don't have any hair anywhere else. So let's do this quick and I'll take you to your room."

A few minutes later, after a small tour of the facility, Will and a newly-shaven Dwayne had reached the execution room. In the middle of the floor, a large wooden chair covered in metal strips. As promised, the chair was adorned with all the electricity-conducting toys a boy could want.

Dwayne had turned the little electric ball in his ass off when he entered the consultation room. Now, he stuck a couple of fingers in his hole, dug around and pulled it out, letting it drop to the floor.

He was shivering in anticipation. He couldn't wait to die.

"Well, you know what to do."

The boy approached the chair. In the center of it was a lubed-up metal buttplug with a small wire attached, disappearing under the seat. He eased himself onto the toy, his ass clenching around the cool metal.

Will was by him now with duct tape, attaching the loose wires to the soles of his feet.

From the left and the right side, Dwayne reached over and grabbed the metal clips, pinching a nipple and attaching them one at a time.

His foreskin hadn't loosened enough yet, so he gritted his teeth and yanked it down, sliding a metal ring around his angry purple-red cockhead. The sound was a hollow metal tube, which he slid into his urethra.

Dwayne's heart was beating a million miles a minute. He could hardly believe it was happening. He used to fondle his cock to the videos of boys playing with e-stims, play executioner with the kids at school, and when the Boymeat Center opened, bounce on his buttplug to their videos of boys being executed.

Will checked over Dwayne, connecting all the metal toys to the power, and securing his torso and legs to the chair with soft ropes.

"All ready, Dwayne. I've left your arms free so you can enjoy your last moments."

Dwayne let in a deep breath and let out an excited smile. "Okay."

With no more words left to say, Will stepped towards the back of the room and motioned for the executioner to begin.

A voice clicked on the PA.

"Dwayne Lewis Jr. The meat you give us will feed fifty hungry people, and every part of you that cannot be food will fertilize our crops and power our cities with renewable energy. Thank you for doing your part for humanity."

A thump and light buzz could be heard over the speaker. Dwayne's cock rose to full hardness, and the light hairs on his skin stood up as electricity tickled its way throughout his young body.

The wires connected to his body bounced as the power thrummed throughout, ticking his nerve endings. The sensation grew an edge, turning into a sharp pain. Dwayne's legs began to twitch involuntarily, and he grabbed his cock and balls with both hands.

With a crack, the voltage shot to 1,400V. Dwayne jolted in his seat, crushing his balls and jerking his cock with the spasms of electrocution. Wonderful searing pain stabbed inside his cock and on the soles of his feet. The metal plug inside his ass felt like a flower blooming inside of him, electricity flowing through his organs.

Dwayne's organs cooked, and the smell of roasting meat filled the room. His gritted teeth didn't hide his pure joy, screaming in pleasure and pain, his heart in overdrive.

About a minute later, they turned the voltage up to 2,000V. The boy let his cock go, and it twitched and bounced from his final dry orgasm. He yelled and bucked in his seat, humping against his restraints in his last moments. His skin turned purple and black, burning off his face and foreskin.

When Dwayne stopped shouting, they turned off the power. He slumped in the chair, steam rising from his head. Will and the executioner approached the dead boy, wearing thick rubber gloves, and untied the corpse. Will spoke a couple of words into a radio, and some attendants burst into the room with a coffin-shaped storage box, taking the body away to be butchered.

A few days later, Dwayne Sr. received a package from the butcher's van: a vacuum-sealed pack of C-grade boymeat, with his son's smiling face in one corner of the label. Nestled in the surrounding paper wrap was the anal e-stim he'd put inside his child on the day of his death.

It was a beautiful day, and he was hungry. Barbeque sounded good.


	4. Troy Martinez

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Contains skinning and butchering, and descriptions of physical pain.

Troy had been looking forward to his meatboy adventure, but he was wired a little differently from the boys of his world. Usually, meat-ready boys would experience nothing but total orgasmic pleasure where pain would be felt. Troy just felt pain and suffering.

When his friends would tie him up and cut him with knives, he would burst into tears and scream. It took a lot of words, blurted out between sobs, to convince them to continue. The truth was, despite feeling things just like the people of our own universe would, he still truly loved the pain. Just like any other meatboy.

Troy stood in the consulting room with Ray, his handler, wiping tears from his eyes and shivering.

"We do have painkillers, if you want," Ray offered.

"N-no," Troy sniffed. "I wanna feel it."

He had been very specific with his request. Tears continued to flow throughout the tour of the kitchens, but Ray did notice how the 11 year old boy's cock jumped whenever they passed a station, each containing a little boy writhing in pleasure from the butcher's blades hacking into their flesh.

They approached Troy's station, and after several deep breaths, the kid took several very shaky steps up to the counter, lying down on the cool marble. He cringed when his assigned butcher approached, and the restraints snapped around his wrists and ankles.

"Troy Martinez," Ray recited, looking into his eyes.

Troy swallowed, hard.

"Thank you for doing your part for humanity."

The butcher rolled out his knives and pulled out a medium-sized blade, holding it over Troy, who gritted his teeth. The man reached under the boy's balls, exposing his little anus, and gripped the knife in the other hand.

Troy squeezed his eyes tight when he felt the point of the knife, and gasped when it slid into his flesh. The butcher dragged the knife slowly, cutting into the boy's skin, slicing around his scrotum and cock and up his belly, and Troy did his best to remain still, despite his full-throated screams of pain.

The boy coughed and moaned tearfully. The knife made more progress, sliding up to his chin, and finally sliced his lower lip in two. A couple of quick cuts around his slender legs and arms, one across his collar bone, and then the butcher slipped the knife under the skin of Troy's chest, just behind the incisions.

Troy yelled and bucked, slapping his back against the pool of blood forming under him. The butcher took both hands off the knife embedded in the boy and stood back, letting him calm down. What was also happening, when Ray looked a little closer, was that he was also humping the air. His half-hard cock was filling up.

The butcher stepped forward again, and took hold of the knife. With a firm stroke, the blade dug under the boy's skin, pulling it free of his flesh.

"Nnnngggggggh!" Troy sounded, clenching his teeth. "Don't ssssstop!"

In broad slices, the man sliced away more and more of Troy's skin, taking care not to hit anything that would end the fun too quickly, and within a couple of minutes, the front was done.

The butcher pushed a small button under the table and released the restraints. Ray rushed over to support the boy as he shivered and shook his way upright, the flaps of skin sliding away from his chest. Pulling a small hose from under the table, Ray washed away the spilled blood, and the butcher washed his hands in the sink next to the table.

"How are you feeling, Troy?" Ray asked.

Troy gulped down some of the abattoir's air. "It hurts."

"You've got a little ways to go here, Troy. He just needs to skin your other side and the rest of you will come away easier."

The boy nodded. The streaks of moisture under his eyes gave away just how much it hurt him.

"Did you want anything else before we continue? Vibrators, dildos?"

"No, I-I got arms," Troy stammered out.

"Okay," Ray simply replied, and motioned the butcher over. Troy turned over and laid down on his front, Ray tucking the flaps of skin over the edges of the counter, spreading him open.

The butcher continued, starting from the wounds he had already made. Troy squeezed his tearful eyes shut when he felt the knife cutting around the base of his spine. His face was screwed up to the point he was getting a headache, on top of all the pain from being skinned alive.

The slice under his collar bone was connected around the back of his neck, allowing the butcher to slice and pull away at his entire back. He carefully left intact where it all met his spine, and once again stood back to allow Ray to position the boy upright again.

"Stay as still as you can," said the butcher, and with a small knife, parted the flesh from Troy's spine.

The skin laid flush, but loose, totally detached from the human being it belonged to. Troy's thighs were wet, from the tears and droplets of blood falling from his face.

"Put your arms out," the butcher murmured in Troy's ear.

The butcher and Ray were on opposite sides of Troy, their hands under the skin of his chest. With a little shuffle, they carefully guided his arms through the holes, and lifted the skin jacket clear of the boy.

An attendant wheeled in a full-length mirror, and Troy could finally see what he looked like.

"And that's the biggest part of your skin, we'll make leather from this. The rest of you will be pork rinds, jerky, lean meats and offal, and anything left over is fuel and fertilizer."

Troy wiped his eyes and nose. He took a deep breath. "I want a change."

"Oh?"

"I want to be butchered alive. I wasn't gonna, but I NEED it."

Ray looked to the butcher. "All righty then. I don't see that being a problem."

"I need you to tie me down and h... and chop me up until there's nothing left."

Troy's cock was standing to attention.

"I need to feel it. All of it."

The boy was looking a lot braver than when he first came into the butcher's corner.

Ray grinned. "Spoken like a true meatboy. Let's finish you off."

Back onto the counter, his hands and feet bound, the butcher pulled out the biggest cleaver Troy had ever seen. With a thunk and a yell, the butcher cleanly separated the legs and arms from Troy's torso. The restraints were released one last time, and the arms and legs swept away to one side.

Then with the cleaver, the butcher hacked into Troy's flesh. Troy screamed until his voice broke, the butcher quickly separating flesh from bone, bone from body, exposing his organs. The butcher shattered his breastbone, cracking his ribcage open, and Troy gasped for air. An oxygen mask was quickly fitted over his face, keeping him alive until the last possible moment.

The tears flowed once more. It hurt so much, and was happening so quickly. He loved it, but the pain was inescapable.

As resilient as he was, he was quickly reaching his limit. He looked down, and his internal organs were being removed one by one. Liver, intestines, stomach, bladder, kidneys... and gradually his vision became blurrier and blurrier.

His cock jumped over and over with every stab of the knife, but he didn't actually shoot his load until after he died.


	5. Dale Bradford Elementary School for Boys, Fourth Grade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fourth grade of Dale Bradford Elementary School for Boys has been selected for processing in the boymeat lottery.

After the initial rush of young boys volunteering to be snuffed, the volume of boymeat had died down a little, and the selection lottery was reinstated. There were three monthly categories: a random list of individual boys from the general population, the top 10 longest-serving male juvenile delinquents from every correctional facility, and a class chosen from one random school.

This month, the lottery chose Dale Bradford Elementary School for Boys, situated on the edge of a sprawling suburb. The fourth grade filled up, and the teacher took attendance.

Billy noticed the man in the corner first as he came in and sat down, and his little cock hardened instantly. He'd wanted to be snuffed for as long as he could remember. His many near misses (and some not so near) with kitchen knives, power outlets and the contents of the laundry room firmly established him as a promising meatboy, and after a few false starts he was finally getting ready to apply to the Boymeat Center. It looked like that wouldn't be needed anymore.

Leon also noticed, but was less enthusiastic. With a resigned sigh, he dumped his bag and slumped in the chair. It was disappointing he couldn't get one last goodbye with his parents. Yes, he knew what an honor and a pleasure it was to become a meatboy and so on and so forth, so it wasn't as if he was trying to get out of it, but he _did_ at least want to finish elementary school first.

Once all the boys filed in and their presence confirmed, Mr Brown, their teacher for the first period, stood up in front of the whiteboard.

"Now, I have some important news to share with you all. This class has been selected in the boymeat lottery. That means that right now, every one of you is legally dead and property of the state. We've told your parents, so all that's left to do is introduce you to Ian, who is looking after you today."

Ian got up from his chair and replaced Mr Brown, who sat at his desk, shuffling around papers.

"Hello everyone!" Ian smiled. "I'm glad to see such a well behaved class today. We see thousands of boys just like you every day, and we like to make sure they have a good time."

He looked across the room. The boys weren't so much well-behaved as frozen in shock and surprise. Nothing he hadn't seen before, though.

"Now, before we make our way to the Center, we do have something to ask you," he continued.

Mr Brown stood up, taking a pile of papers with him. He weaved around the desks, depositing a piece on each table.

"On those forms is a series of choices. Each choice is a way of being executed. We want you to tick the boxes on the ones you most want to have. Make sure you write your name and age at the top, so we can keep track. The one with the most votes is how the entire class will go out."

Leon looked down at the sheet. None of them appealed at all, but he did have to pick at least one. From the description, a simple cattle-style culling looked like the quickest way out, so he picked that.

Billy, however, had thought about all the ways he could be killed for a long time. He'd ticked a lot of boxes on the paper, though he hoped his favorite would come out on top.

"You can talk among yourselves for a while," Mr Brown spoke up. "Bring your paper to the front when you've made your choice."

The low level of whispered conversation rose immediately into a loud chatter. Some of the boys got up and wandered over to their friends, others sat and stared at their desks. Billy was in a small group, all of whom were into snuffing like he was. All of them were half-consciously grabbing their cocks through their school shorts as they discussed the choices.

Eventually, all of the ballots made their way to the front. Mr Brown and Ian looked over them carefully, counting and taking notes.

Mr Brown stood up, and the class fell silent.

"Now, your social studies class will have told you all about how you get to the Center," the teacher spoke to the room. The door opened, and a man wheeled in a pallet full of boy crates.

"I'm going to call names off the list. When you're called, take your clothes off and put them in this trash can here, along with everything in your pockets." Mr Brown pulled a large trash can over from his desk. "Then we'll get you strapped into the boy crate and you'll be on your way to the Center."

A boy in the back of the room put his hand up.

"Yes, Samuel?"

Samuel stood up, cleared his throat and fidgeted in place. "Are you gonna tell us what is gonna happen? From the paper, I mean."

Mr Brown glanced to Ian, who spoke up. "We thought that considering the results, you're better off knowing once you get to the Center."

"Oh," Samuel fidgeted, pinching the tent in his school shorts. "I hope it's a good one."

Mr Brown called the first name. The boy, a slim, extroverted brown-skinned kid, bounced over, threw his clothes off and jumped into the crate to get strapped down. His flapping boner was locked away in the chastity belt, and the firm plastic circle that was the open butt plug was eased into his ass. Then he was efficiently folded into the crate with the straps, and a ball gag was strapped around his mouth. The man took the first crate away.

The process continued, one by one, and the state of their 9 or 10 year old erections told the story of how much they loved the reality of becoming boymeat, despite their initial shock. Even Leon, who was not the most enthusiastic piece of meat to be sent for processing, was hard as a rock when he was packed away.

The class dwindled away to nothing. Ian shook Mr Brown's hand and stepped out of the classroom.

Outside the school a large truck idled outside, the engine humming. The logo of the Boymeat Center was emblazoned on the side for all to see. The school windows were filled with curious children looking out - and at least one young couple making out at the sight of a whole class of boys being sent to slaughter.

Ian swung his way up to the cab, said something to the driver, and the rig pulled away.

The truck itself was filled with the grunts and whines of horny little boys. It was warm inside, and Billy was sweating away. He shivered and popped another youthful cum, which spewed around his cock, straining against the chastity device.

The vehicle bumped and shifted, and so did the boy crates. Hard lefts, sharp rights, winding around streets and highways, and at every turn there was a chorus of moans when the toys inside the boys shifted and resonated with the truck.

In the end, the truck shuddered to a halt. The rear doors opened, and the boy crates were unloaded and placed into the delivery chutes.

Leon ached all over from the rough transportation, but there was no respite for him. He caught a glimpse of the open sky before he was delivered to Standard Processing. That would be the last sky he would ever see.

The mechanism that Leon was folded over began to open up, and he was blasted with water and soap, cleaned inside and out, and dried rapidly. He proceeded to the standard video, which he barely paid attention to. All it was doing was prolonging the inevitable. He hoped it would be quick.

Eventually he found his way into a small, brightly-lit room, with two attendants in the back extracting the prepared boys from their transport harnesses. The room steadily filled until there were 41 naked little boys, most with the hardest cocks they'd ever had in their lives.

Once all the boys were present and accounted for, the attendants took the last of the harnesses out of the room, along with themselves, closing the door behind them.

A voice clicked on the PA.

"Dale Bradford Elementary School for Boys, Grade 4. Your fertilizer will feed thousands of crops, and thousands of hungry people. Thank you, each and every one of you, for doing your part for humanity."

From under their feet, the metal doors opened below the glass floor, giving the boys a preview of what was to come.

The room shifted and every child suddenly lost their footing, turning an orderly room full of standing kids into a sweaty pile of horny meatboys, moaning and grinding against each other.

Underneath them, the giant machine picked up speed. The huge spinning blades swept around and around under them.

Then the transparent floor began to slide away an inch at a time. The vulnerable position that the fourth grade boys were in meant that any attempts at extricating themselves from the writhing mass of bodies was of limited use.

The first boys slipped away and fell into the meat grinder. With a cry, they were obliterated into a fountain of blood, bone chips and a small spurt of boycum.

Billy was in heaven. He lay within the crushingly heavy pile of boys, some he knew, some he kind of knew. His cock was wedged awkwardly between an arm and a thigh, hard as a rock and gushing precum.

Samuel had reached the edge of the floor. He furiously jerked his cock, his face pressed to the glass. The increasing quantity of boys falling into the pit had begun to have an effect on the powerful meat grinder, and the rate had slowed, the pile on the diminishing floor steadily transferring to the mouth of the machine.

He fell, but the lack of distance between him and the top of the pile meant that he landed softly. A shy boy from the back of the class was moaning and writhing nearby, his fingers in his ass and around his little dick. Another boy squirmed underneath him.

The tempo and volume of the whirring went up and down. Boys at the bottom of the pile were churned into gory soup, and the results washed up through the natural gaps in the backed-up heap.

From the far end of the pile, it dawned on Leon that there were more kids here than just the 41 in his class. Faces passed by that he'd never seen before in his life. None of them were in any state to talk.

The room was roasting hot from the heat of the bodies and of the machine. The floor had fully slid away, and all that was left was a dwindling pile of boys being ground into fertilizer.

Samuel had reached the bottom of the pile. His arms were pulled behind him, and the blades ate into his back. With a yelp, his cock bounced and shot his last load, and blood ran from his eyes, nose and mouth. His last expression was a smile.

The blades pushed out of his face, and then it was pulled apart into chunks of skin and bone by the motion of the grinder. The brain matter emptied out of the back of his head in a pinkish-grey stew. His eyes and teeth churned and rolled around in the mix.

On his torso, large shards of his ribcage crunched around his broken chest. His heart was sliced in two with a gush of dark red blood, and his intestines burst from him, tangling around the spinning knives like spaghetti.

In moments, he joined the red mush that was the remains of the ground boys.

Leon angled himself downwards in the pile, head first. He had had enough of the wait, and just wanted it to be over for him quickly. However, his semi-hard cock betrayed his latent desire. He couldn't ever admit it to himself, but he really did find the idea of getting snuffed arousing.

When he reached the jaws of the grinder, his right arm went first, caught up in the mechanism as he was scratching his nose. His cock sprang into full hardness, and total pleasure overwrote the last of his reluctance.

The blades ate into him crossways, from his arm to his upper torso, and then into his head. He grunted and groaned, but never reached a final orgasm before the grinder minced his brain into paste. The machine worked its way up the rest of his torso. His now permanently engorged cock joined the rest of him in becoming rich nutrient-filled goop, and his legs and feet were the last to go.

Billy was in a state of total ecstasy. He'd shot multiple loads at the sound of moaning boys being turned to fertilizer. The roar of the grinder crept closer, and he shook in anticipation.

A surge of blood and guts washed up and around Billy, coating him in a deep red. (A little got in his mouth, and he swallowed it down immediately.) His fingers were plunging in and out of his 9 year old ass, digging into his prostate.

The chorus of moans grew in intensity. Letting go of himself for a moment, Billy wriggled away within the sweaty pile of boys, easing into a position where his feet faced downwards into the boymeat grinder.

He braced, squeezing his cock tightly, pinching off the orgasm.

The giant spiky circular saws ate into Billy's soles a few moments later, shredding away the flesh and shattering the bones within his feet. Billy yelled in sheer overwhelmed happiness, but kept his fingers on the head of his cock, holding back just a little longer.

The grinder sucked in the meatboy's ankles and quickly started working its way up the legs. It crushed his skinned and scab-filled knees into dust, and began to pull chunks out of his calves.

Billy finally let go and added long lines of white to the endless pool of deep red slurry, before his cock and balls disappeared into the endlessly hungry machine. It dug into his stomach and guts, which flowed freely into the pit, spooling out from his broken body.

The boy slipped away forever when the meat grinder reached his chest. His eyes remained open, looking at nothing, and the spinning blades reached his neck and closed over his head with a snap.

The unrefined boy fertilizer flowed away from the giant grinder, through an intricate network of pipes, and out into a row of tanker trucks idling in the shipping hangar. The remains of over a hundred boys slopped into the tankers. When they became full, the trucks drove away to the factories in the outer regions for refinement.

Many more boys from many places made their way into the meat grinder that day. The screams of pleasure, the whirring of the blades and the wet crunch of boys becoming nutrient-rich slurry continued into the late evening, until the Center closed for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> The comments box is closed and I will not accept any more comments or suggestions on this story. Thank you to everyone for your ideas so far. The series may continue into the future from here.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @[weirdboystories](https://twitter.com/weirdboystories) or on Eka's Portal @[weirdboysandmeatboys](https://aryion.com/g4/user/weirdboysandmeatboys).


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